Chapter Twenty-Two
Emer felt like she could fly. Or perhaps like she was about to burst into a ball of light like one of the stars above them. “Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I would love that so much.”
Even in the dark, Emer saw Broccan’s eyes light up, heard the weight in his voice. “So would I.” He paused, drawing a deep breath. “I want to be honest with you, though. I don’t know that I’m ready to marry again.”
Emer propped herself up on her elbow so that she could see him properly, leaning against the side of the boat for extra support. “I wouldn’t expect you to be,” she told him. “And if you never are, I couldn’t care less. I just want to be with you.”
His hand caressed her cheek. “I’m still not convinced I deserve you.”
“Perhaps I can convince you,” she teased, leaning down and kissing him until a stray thought interrupted her. “I don’t know what to do about my brothers or the hostelries, though,” she admitted. “I would feel terrible leaving as soon as they returned.”
“Illadan offered for them to move with you, since the rest of their family would be with us. Do you think they would come?”
Emer felt some of the tension ease. “Aye, I think they would.”
“Do you still want to run the guesting houses?”
“I do love the work.” Emer worried her lip. She knew she couldn’t do it forever. If she ever had children, she knew it would be difficult to manage both. “How big is Cenn Cora? Do you get many travelers?”
Broccan grimaced. “No, not really. Just royals who stay in the fortress, mostly. We can search for a spot together, one close enough you could go there every day.”
“I’m prepared to give it up if we can’t find one.” And that was the truth. She felt it in her bones as she said it.
“We’ll find one.”
“But—”
“No more arguing.” He pulled her mouth to his.
She smiled against his lips, melting into him as the kiss grew hotter, hungrier. The boat rocked in protest when Broccan rolled to face her.
“I have one more surprise,” he whispered roughly.
Heat flooded Emer. “Does it involve kissing?”
A rumble of laughter tumbled through his chest. “You’ll see.”
As Broccan led her to Oran’s old hostelry, Emer realized two things.
She desperately needed to rename the place.
And it definitely involved kissing.
He didn’t stop as they passed through the common room, the floors pristine after the good scrubbing she’d given them.
He kept going down the first hall until he reached a large room at the end.
He’d made up the bed with linens and furs and even pillows.
A brazier lit the room from a far corner.
For the first time since she’d taken over the hostelry, Emer felt at home there, like it was hers at last.
He was on her the minute the door closed. His hands pulled her mouth to his, his kiss fanning the flame that already burned within her. Every inch of her skin ached for his touch. She could hardly believe that this was actually happening, that he truly had chosen her as his woman.
Broccan wrapped one arm around her waist, using the other to stop them from landing hard when he laid her down on the blanket-covered bed.
He pressed another searing kiss to her lips, stealing her very breath.
His wicked fingers took advantage of the way her skirt slid up, brushing over the very part of her that burned the hottest. She needed him.
But he continued to tease her, running them over her but never inside. “Broccan,” she begged.
“You’re in charge.” The hitch in his voice sent a spiral of desire straight through her. He was just as lost as she was. His mouth nipped at hers as he continued teasing her. “What are my orders?”
What didn’t she want? Struggling to put two thoughts together, Emer managed to determine the first obstacle. “Get this dress off me.” It was most definitely in the way. “And your clothes, too.”
His hands moved away from her, deftly undoing her dress.
“With pleasure.” First her dress, then his clothes landed in a heap beside them, somehow missing the lit brazier. Emer sucked in a breath as she took him in. She’d been naked with him twice before now, but she still had yet to actually see all of him. Not like this.
He had a body that could have been carved from stone, all hard angles and sharp lines that begged to be touched, to be kissed. A scar ran across his hip. It looked like the wounds she’d seen on men who’d been cut by a sword in battle. And then there was the very large, very hard part of him.
“Can I touch you this time?” She didn’t want to rush him, but she desperately wanted to feel him.
His hungry eyes raked over her body. “You can do anything you want.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Emer sat up, pulling him closer, grasping him beneath her fingers. He groaned, his head falling back as he let out an oath. She loved seeing him like this. Raw. Unguarded.
She moved her hand, squeezing the hard shaft until his breath grew ragged. When next she looked up, his gray eyes had filled with the soft clouds of desire.
“Tell me what you want,” he growled.
“I want you inside me.” She wanted to know what he felt like, how he moved. She wanted to savor every moment Broccan would give her.
He grabbed her like a wolf after a deer, sliding her hips until she was pinned beneath him. His lips found hers again, claiming her in a kiss that left her shaking with need. One of his hands pinned her wrists over her head, the other guided him gently inside her. Too gently.
Emer lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him. He exhaled sharply as she drew him deeper inside her. That was the moment his control finally snapped. All attempts at gentleness fell away as she met his thrusts again and again. Pleasure built inside her, begging for release.
His movements grew wilder, less controlled, and Emer felt his grip on her tighten. Without warning, he flipped her on top of him. “Take control,” he whispered.
And she did. It took her a few tries, but Emer found the way to roll her hips, taking him into her and pushing him back out. His hands grasped for her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples.
Her back arched. She threw her head back, crying out as she finally reached her peak.
Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her as she rode him.
Beneath her, she felt him driving into her, grabbing her hips and pulling her down hard and frenzied.
The sound he made as he held her tightly against him, finding his own pleasure, could only be described as deliciously masculine.
“I think that’s the loudest I’ve ever heard you yell.” He grinned up at her.
Her heart squeezed. He looked so happy. If only she could fix all his problems this way. Leaning down, she planted a lazy kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, laying her head on his chest, “there’s plenty more where that came from.”
She felt his chuckle against her cheek. “Good.” His hand caressed her arm, making her aware of just how tired she was. Letting her eyes drift closed, Emer fell asleep listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.